บททั้งหมดของ The Consumed Series: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

I hiss as I catch my fingers in my wet, tangled hair. I tug them free, and my scalp burns. I thought the shower would help reduce some of the frustration that's built up under my skin. It doesn't.Then quit. I'll cover it, recalling Seth's tone grates on my nerves. I pull a face at the tiled wall, scowling as if Seth is standing right in front of me. And don't get me started on my father. My fingers catch in another tangle. I clench my teeth and rip through it, cursing the fact I had no conditioner in my locker to help with the knots. How dare he make me feel like I'm being unreasonable. He's lucky he's still allowed to come to work and participate in Seth's training.I squeeze grapefruit and pomegranate-scented soap onto a loofah and scrub under my arms and across my chest. The delightful scent emanating from the bubbles takes the edge off, easing some of my agitation.Knock. Knock. I pause, holding my loofah to my stomach."I'm showering," I call out."You think that will make me go

My heart stops dead and my throat constricts. My veins surge in my hand which tightly grips the phone's handset. The plastic creaks and the static is a knife in my ear. A cold sweat slides from the nape of my neck and down my back as I swallow thickly, tears welling in my eyes. At the forefront of my mind, all I can see is Dad's heart breaking in his face when I made Seth deny him his trip to Boston. Has this happened because I argued with him? Did I cause him more stress than his body could handle?"Olivia?""Is..." I force a sharp pinch of air into my lungs. "I-is he okay?"Mason leans forward, planting his hands on the desk, his body softer than it was moments ago."He's okay."I gasp and fall into my seat. I swipe my hand over my forehead, then press my palm to my cheeks, encouraging blood to return to my face. My welling tears empty themselves of grief and fill with relief. I let them spill over the edge and roll down my cheek, then I swipe them away."We're at the Portland Hospit

I go without Seth for six days. Training and preparing for his Boston fight against Joshua Denisov has eaten up all his time, not leaving a second spare for me. The days have dragged by. I've only been able to speak with him over the phone for the shortest slices of time. The short phone calls don't satisfy me. They don't scratch my itch or quench my thirst for his company.I've kept myself busy, running errands, coming back and forth from the hospital and my parent's house. Exhausted doesn't begin to cover it. I'm looking forward to blowing off some steam in another city since the doctor cleared Dad yesterday and Mom assures me she has everything under control.Exhaling, I arch my back and pull my phone out from where it's wedged-between my backside and the couch cushion. I shake my feet, then let them hang over the armrest as I unlock my phone and look at the time. Seth will be here in twenty minutes. Butterflies release themselves from their gilded cages, and in their excited flutte

It took Darryl six minutes to reach our hotel room. Seth only needed five and a half to help relieve some of the tension that built inside me over the last six days.I spent the rest of the day at some MMAC training center while Seth trained and the entire evening with the whole team at a fancy Italian restaurant a few blocks over. When we finished there, Darryl allowed us twenty minutes to prepare for Polaris and insisted on getting ready in our hotel room.I tighten my high-pony and smooth my hands down the front of a simple black dress. I adjust the collar that sits tight around my pointy clavicles and tug at the hem just above my knee. Happy with my uncomplicated outfit, I meet Darryl and Seth in the foyer. Both men have draped their bodies in fitted suits, Darryl's black and Seth's a striking graphite hue. Forgoing his suit jacket, Seth's white, long-sleeved dress shirt pulls tight over his broad shoulders and around his torso, showcasing a disciplined body made of stone. His pres

Somewhere between crying, and listening to Seth smash things while yelling at people on the phone, I fall asleep. When I open my eyes, it's still dark. I smooth my palm over the cold space beside me and blink at the sitting room light as it filters through the crack in the door.I slide off the bed and wobble unsteadily on my feet. The pain in my thigh and hip feels more stiff than throbbing, but it still hurts whenever my thigh muscle clenches. I make it to the bedroom door and I grasp the handle, easing it open.I make my way down the stairs, scanning the area for Seth.But he's nowhere to be seen."Seth?" I call out. Did he leave me here alone? "Seth?"I reach the bottom of the stairs and stand next to a haphazardly swept pile of porcelain and stone. Against the bottom step, a dustpan and brush sit. I clench my jaw against the pain as I crouch and grab the brush and better group the sharp materials. Then, I take the pan and sweep as much of the glass into it as I can."You don't hav